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From: varoneeka@aol.com (Varoneeka)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q
Subject: Q is Forever (TNG NC-17 but no BDSM) 1/4
Date: 25 Aug 1997 16:35:18 GMT
Lines: 262
Message-ID: <19970825163501.MAA16259@ladder01.news.aol.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: ladder01.news.aol.com
X-Admin: news@aol.com
Organization: AOL http://www.aol.com
Hi. This is an NC-17 P/Q story, third in a series, "From Q, With Love,"
and "Live and Let Q." It's decidedly lacking in BDSM (though those are
lovely stories, no question). No one under 18 or who dislikes sex between
two men (kinda) or lots of love-talk should read any further.
Feedback is welcome at Varoneeka@aol.com
Paramount owns everything, and so shouldn't be mad at me for playing
around with such irresistible toys. I'm not doing this to make money --
though I sure wish I could!
*Q is Forever*
It had been six days now, from his perspective, and Riker still
hadn't figured out the identity of his captain's new lover.
He wasn't the only one working on it, of course. Beverly, Data,
and Geordi had all offered speculation -- Deanna knew, of course, but no
one would be such a twit as to ask her -- and some of the non-command
staff had been offering loud hints and suggestions of their own. Someone
had started up a pool which now covered the names of just about every
single woman on the ship, and a few male names as well.
The male names had taken Riker by surprise. As far as he knew
Picard's history was limited to women, but he supposed it wasn't beyond
the realm of possibility. It was difficult to imagine, though, Picard
taking a male lover, though why, Riker wasn't quite certain. Perhaps he
simply couldn't picture a man who would be willing to put up with Picard's
need to dominate without earning the captain's disdain at being so
willing. There always seemed to Riker a bit more room to maneuver in that
area with women.
But, frankly, Riker didn't care. If he did meet this person, his
only real interest -- well, his primary interest anyway -- would be to
thank them. The captain's happiness in this relationship was obvious; it
was this happiness which had, after all, clued everyone in on the
relationship in the first place. While never sacrificing an inch of his
authority, Picard laughed more easily, seemed almost blind to life's
little annoyances, and could now be seen smiling to himself when he
thought no one was looking.
And yet the real change was less tangible than that. To be sure,
there were times Picard seemed as irritated or impatient as ever. Life as
a starship captain could never be complete without giving cause for
stifled complaint. He had the same quiet strength, the same
come-not-too-close aura, the same hard determination as always. But the
faint hint of loneliness, that suggestion of need which peeped out in
unexpected half-seconds of vulnerability, was gone. Completely gone. And
in its place mutely sparkled an air of boundless contentment.
Riker had thought once or twice to be a little hurt that Picard
wouldn't volunteer the information to him, but Picard's need for privacy
was hardly a revelation to him. In the end, he settled on the virtue of
patience and kept his fingers crossed that this time, unlike all times in
the past, somehow it would work out.
But there was no sense in anyone else being too comfortable, and
in the pool he anonymously put down the name, "Data."
"Why don't you like it when I say you're beautiful?"
Picard sighed, then grunted as his right foot finally slipped into
its boot. The computer had replicated a pair that was just a little too
tight, not enough to warrant getting a new pair, but just not quite the
usual level of comfortable.
"Isn't it enough that I don't like it?" the captain asked quietly,
not looking at his lover. Q hadn't moved from his redolently naked pose
on the bed, and he didn't want to deal with the strange blend of
sensations that accompanied that particular sight. It still embarrassed
him that his body responded so strongly to nothing more than the look in
Q's eyes or the suggestive leer upon his lips. The knowledge that Q was
laying there nude and aroused only a few feet from him was making it
extremely difficult to think about his upcoming meeting with the senior
staff, or about what he should ask from the replicator for breakfast.
"But you are beautiful," Q said softly, his deep voice making that
thing in Picard's stomach coil a bit yet again. "The most beautiful thing
I've ever seen in the whole universe, especially when one of us is inside
the other and you're about to come."
"Q!" Picard snapped, though it did nothing to stop his body's
reaction to Q's silken words. He couldn't really understand it. Q and he
had just made love half an hour ago, and yet his body was demanding more
so loudly he felt that it had been weeks and weeks since Q had put his
arms around him to hold him while he exploded with pleasure. He could
even now almost feel the aftershocks of it, and yet he was so far from
sated he felt almost faint with longing. How could he live like this?
But when he forgot himself and looked over at Q in his bed, the
unanswered question simply dissolved from his consciousness.
"Q," he whispered, "take us out of here."
Pure delight flooded Q's face, his dark eyes, always so bright,
glowing with anticipation as his hand raised to snap.
And suddenly Picard was standing right to the side of his clothes,
which held their place, waiting for their owner to be inside them again.
With difficulty, knowing his lover would be hyper-sensitive to any
rejection now that things had become openly sexual, Picard swallowed his
objection and stood there, watching Q's eyes glitter with need as they
looked him over. The moment held until Picard's own arousal was starkly
evident.
"Beautiful," Q pronounced, then snapped his fingers again.
And they were sitting on a blanket in the Dicsh'kat garden,
dressed in their "walking clothes," a picnic spread out before them.
"Another wedding?" Picard asked, pleased with the casual tone his
voice managed.
"It's too hot for the sisters at present," Q said with equal calm,
as though his erection were not showing clearly through his jeans, nor his
eyes lingering avidly over Picard's chest. "They're at their summer
palace."
"I thought this was the summer palace," Picard replied.
"Early summer."
"Oh."
Picard met Q's eyes then, and allowed his own to show how he felt.
He expected Q to make a comment, sexual, teasing, loving, but instead,
the entity only stared back, and the captain allowed himself the luxury of
looking over every part of Q's face, from his full lips, to his dark
hairline, to his strong brow, to his extremely sensitive ears, to his chin
that liked to be nibbled on, and finally to his eyes, and to the
expression in them that made Picard's breath come faster and that special
pain inside his body start to clench. He knew he would be the first to
make a move this time, and smiled slightly in anticipation of watching the
expression in Q's eyes change from that glittering challenge, to desire,
and finally to pleasure and joy.
But then Q spoke, softly, almost desperately.
"Why?"
Picard buried his sigh and raised his eyebrows.
"Why, after all these years of my chasing you did you finally let
me catch you?"
"I prefer to think of it as my catching you," Picard offered,
knowing it wouldn't be enough.
It wasn't. Q laid down on the blanket with a sigh that was
attempting to sound carefree and came out betraying frustration. Signs of
arousal and desire began to subside as he studied the blue-pink sky as
though he were committing each particle of light to memory, and Picard
fought his own desire simply to jump on top of Q and force him to respond.
He'd tried that before, and, while it had led enjoyably to sex, Q's
insecurities had only increased three-fold afterwards.
"Q," he said slowly instead, "what can I do to prove to you that I
love you? Ever since we've started this I've thought of no one and
nothing but you. I can barely do my job, and if I don't learn how to
handle this better I'm going to have to resign my commission. Do you
realize how much that frightens me? Losing the Enterprise?" Q looked at
him blankly, but Picard could sense his fear. "But you know what? I'm
not going to lose the Enterprise, and I'm not going to lose you. Somehow
I'm going to have both of you."
"Perhaps I would believe you more if you weren't so ashamed of
me."
"I'm not ashamed of you! I just want..." Picard rubbed at his
temples. "I just want to get things a little more settled between us
before I turn my crew's lives up-side down. If I were this involved with
anyone I'd want that." Q looked back at the sky.
"Tell me what you want me to do, Q, and I'll do it. Do you want
me to hold a meeting of my staff and tell them I'm in love with you? Take
me back to the Enterprise right now and I will."
"You make it sound like a death sentence."
"Q, have you dealt fully with the Continuum about this?" Q looked
back at him, a frown forming. "Would you like it if I told you how to
handle them?"
"Your crew all know you've got someone, you know."
"I should think they do. I'm not stupid. I've told that to you
often enough now for you to remember it. I know how differently I've been
acting. Look, I don't even know myself what's going to happen to me
because of this, because of what we're becoming to each other. I don't
even know what you want out of it, how long it will last, how --"
"How long do you want it to last?"
Picard had an easy answer for that one: "The rest of my life."
Q smiled, sly and lazy. "At least, Picard. At least."
"I'm not going to become a Q."
"I never said you would. I'm not even sure I'd like you as a Q.
You'd probably try to become Admiral Q or something."
Picard tried not to let his relief show, and Q kept to himself the
information that there were many levels of existence between human
mortality and Qdom. He had no intention of ever letting Jean-Luc die, but
it simply wasn't time for that conversation yet.
"Why are you smiling?" Picard wanted to know.
"Because you're right."
"My God. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"
Q stretched languidly on the blanket before purring with a slight
smile, "Come here and kiss me."
"Is that an order?" Picard asked, his body leaning slightly
forward as though he were considering the matter.
Q's expression grew, if anything, more languid, and Picard found
himself lowering his body down onto his elbows at Q's side, his head
inches above Q's shoulder.
"Where do you want me to kiss you?" the man asked.
"An interesting question," Q responded, smile growing. With an
almost tentative motion, he put his right hand lightly to Picard's face
and stroked his fingertips from brow to chin and then up, slightly, to his
lips, which they delicately traced. Picard kissed his fingers with equal
care, and Q moved his hand around to the back of Picard's neck, drawing
the man towards him. Picard tried to respond directly to that touch,
waiting until Q had guided him to a spot very near to his lips, and then
kissed Q's chin with affection.
The entity chuckled and redirected his efforts slightly. Picard's
next kiss was on his lips, lightly, then a bit more deeply, then
passionately, until Q's deep breaths grew satisfactorily ragged. Picard
had already moved his left hand to Q's stomach and was pulling his shirt
up. Breaking the kiss for only a second, he stripped the shirt from Q,
then resumed his exploration of the inside of his lover's warm mouth as he
trailed light caresses over Q's chest and stomach. Again he felt the
slight tremors as he touched sensitive areas.
Then the light pressure against his neck shifted, and Picard was
kissing a gentle trail down Q's neck, then past his collarbone, then over
his sternum. He was half-way to the navel before he was sure of Q's
destination, and his low chuckle vibrated through them both.
Working quickly with his hands even as his kisses lingered along
their path, Picard had moved Q's pants and briefs out of the way well
before his lips moved gently into that patch of dark hair.
It was odd how much he and Q enjoyed undressing each other.
Usually, in their haste to come together, Q simply wished them both naked.
But when they could stand it, there was some sort of declaration of
intent in going to the trouble of fumbling with buttons and seals, a
rediscovery of the strip tease. Now it somehow seemed more sensual to
have his own clothes on as he did this, and to have Q's pants still
tangled below his knees.
And then Picard stopped thinking about clothes. The first time he
had done this he'd been amazed to discover that it was pleasurable. Now
he found it completely different but just as exciting to put his mouth on
Q as it was to be on the receiving end of this intimate act. The taste of
Q's precum in his mouth, the feel of his lover as he gasped and groaned,
the way this act seemed connected only to Q -- his only male, or at least
male-like, lover.
More than that, he had acknowledged to himself with difficulty, it
was simply intoxicating to know that as he did this, Q --
semi-omnipotent, immortal, snide and mocking Q -- actually became helpless
with sensation. Q had once hesitantly explained that when he and Picard
made love he had to let go of most of his powers, separate himself from
parts of his own consciousness to avoid accidentally blowing up a star or
changing the gravitational constant of the universe during orgasm. To
know as he dragged his tongue along his lover's erection the power inside
Q's willing and trembling body -- just thinking about it gave Picard a
raging hard-on.
It had taken him some practice to learn how to take Q fully into
his mouth, fighting down his gag reflex, and he felt rather absurdly proud
of the ability, so it was a bit of discipline for both of them as he
licked again and again at the tip. The pressure on his neck was
increasing, and Q's hips were lifting up from the blanket as his gasps
grew a bit more desperate, but Picard would not be rushed.
Until he judged the moment right, and then he took Q in completely
in a single move that made his lover scream.
So great was Q's surprise, in fact, that Picard felt the
beginnings of an orgasm almost immediately. Using the will power he
always needed around Q, he eased the pressure from his mouth and tightened
his hand's hold around the base, keeping his lover from coming.
"Damn you," Q groaned as his body remained tense.
Thinking an evil grin, Picard once again began to suck, this time
gently, on Q's cock, as one finger (lubricated, of course) teased Q's
tight bud. Deep shudders racked his body as Q spread his legs further and
whispered something desperate.
Unexpectedly, Picard became aware of the sun's warmth on the back
of his neck, and heard the light drone of the garden's insect life. His
heart was pounding in his chest and his pants were painfully tight.
He let his lips rest against the very tip of Q's weeping penis.
"I love you," he uttered reverently, his deep voice vibrating through his
lover and bringing a gasp.
"You love me," Q said, forcing himself not to thrust into that
mouth. "I love you. I'd rather be with you than do anything else in the
universe."
Picard felt wetness inside his pants now, knew he was close to
losing it, while he wracked his brains for a response to so great and so
sincere an endearment.
"Being with you feels better than saving humanity," he
half-chuckled, half-groaned before taking Q in completely again, reaching
inside his lover to stroke that tiny spot over and over as Q fought not to
come not to come not to come...
"Jean-Luc!" Q wailed, and then he screamed, long and hard, as
Picard swallowed deeply, over and over, staying with him through the
sunbursts and explosions and super-novas, until they were both inert, both
drenched, both spread out unheedingly on the blanket.
END PART ONE
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From: varoneeka@aol.com (Varoneeka)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q
Subject: Q is Forever (TNG P/Q NC-17 but no BDSM) 2/4
Date: 25 Aug 1997 16:36:35 GMT
Lines: 286
Message-ID: <19970825163600.MAA23915@ladder02.news.aol.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: ladder02.news.aol.com
X-Admin: news@aol.com
Organization: AOL http://www.aol.com
Hi. This is an NC-17 P/Q story, third in a series, "From Q, With Love,"
and "Live and Let Q." It's decidedly lacking in BDSM (though those are
lovely stories, no question). No one under 18 or who dislikes sex between
two men (kinda) or lots of love-talk should read any further.
Feedback is welcome at Varoneeka@aol.com
Paramount owns everything, and so shouldn't be mad at me for playing
around with such irresistible toys. I'm not doing this to make money --
though I sure wish I could!
Picard woke up to find that Q was kissing him, a deep, searching
kiss which Picard returned as best he could, feeling the energy Q poured
into him, immediately ready for whatever his lover had in mind.
*This is insane,* Picard thought. *And I don't care.*
And then their clothes were gone, and Q covered him with his
taller body, his hands busy caressing his chest and stomach and ass and
thighs, as though he couldn't touch enough of Picard at once. His tongue
wrapped around the man's and thrust in and out, brushing the roof of his
mouth, then again plunging deeply. His erection -- naturally Q was hard
again -- began to rub against his lover's, and Picard had begun to thrust
back when Q abruptly withdrew to straddle Picard with a wild expression in
his eyes.
*This is new,* Picard managed to think before Q raised up suddenly
and lowered himself with one forceful thrust onto Picard's cock.
"My God! Q!" Picard shouted as the reality of it tried to
register. Q began to raise and lower himself and Picard was torn between
the sensations rushing through his body and simple admiration for the
sense of balance Q was displaying. Using that conflict to keep his head
partially clear, he reached down and grasped Q's erection, stroking him as
best he could as Q continued to move them both towards fulfillment.
Picard fought to keep his eyes open, watching the careful and
strained movement of Q's shuddering body, muscles moving under his smooth
skin, face drawn in concentration, chest heaving with unsteady breaths.
The difficulty of this joining was excitingly new and forced Picard to
greater awareness of what they were doing.
*Q is taking me inside his body,* he thought, *taking me deep
inside while I jerk him off, and it's so hot and tight and good I think
I'll explode any minute, but I'm trying not to. It's so hard, so hard,
not to come, but I want to make him feel good. I want to feel good. I
love this. I love him. I can't get enough of this.*
*He can hardly stand it*, Q was thinking, *the reserved captain
fucking me in the ass and wanting more, out of control and pushed to the
edge and still working to make it last. But I can see it starting now.
Come for me, Jean-Luc. Come for me, Beautiful, so beautiful and I can
feel every bit of you inside me.*
But Q came first, again, exploding hot cum all over Picard's chest
as his muscles tightened around Picard's cock and drew out wave after wave
of thick, warm fluid deep inside Q, until the lovers once again lay
sprawled together on the blanket, gasping and trying to say something of
gratitude and love. It was some time before Q thought to clean them up.
And it was some time after that as they lay wrapped around each
other on the blanket that Picard began to laugh. At Q's interrogative
noise, he grumbled, "You're ruining me, you know. An effective form of
insurance."
Q's mumble sounded like, "Insurance?" but Picard couldn't be sure.
"I'll never be able to make love with anyone else. They wouldn't
put up with my demands."
"Does that bother you?"
"Not particularly."
Q made a noise of satisfaction.
Picard frowned and rolled over to look at him. The sun was making
long shadows and hiding Q's eyes from him.
"Is this really any good for you?" Picard asked. "Is it enough?"
Q frowned at him.
"Making love with a mortal, limited to human experiences: is it
enough for you?"
"And you complain when I ask hard questions."
"Meaning?"
"I thought we'd agreed to take the conversation as it came up, to
discuss what was necessary in the order of its appearance. How can I tell
you now what's 'enough' for either of us?"
"That's an evasion, Q."
"Yes, one obvious enough even for a human to recognize."
"Q!"
"I may want more from you sometimes, Jean-Luc, but that doesn't
make what we have any less good. Can you tell me any differently?"
The captain thought a moment, once again slightly worried about
how easily he had gotten used to existing outside time. There seemed only
to be the present instant, no weariness from what he had been through, no
anxiety about the future. The garden was deliciously warm and steeped in
summer scents, and his eager lover was in his arms. Did he want more? It
seemed incredibly selfish even to imagine it.
But yes, he wanted more, and that only made what they had better.
It shouldn't, but it did.
And then Picard thought, not for the first time, that he and Q
made love so often, so passionately, because they were trying to say "I
love you" without the diversions of verbal speech. Somehow they wanted to
convey nothing but the feelings they had for each other: a pure love,
without consideration of the racial, cultural, mortal barriers between
them. They had no idea how to bridge those gaps, so they concentrated on
making each other come. It was actually pretty logical, in point of fact,
but he couldn't help but wonder how long it would satisfy them. What
would Q ask from him when he felt the time was right? What would he ask
from Q?
"I love you, Q," Picard said deeply, carefully, meaning it in a
way he hadn't quite meant it before. "Whatever we face, as long as you're
here with me facing it, I'll always love you."
The body next to his stretched out along the cool shadows of the
evening, a play of desire and contentment, a whisper of the night to come,
and Picard smiled at the interplay of love and lust, wondering if his
lover's next touch would be a taste of a promise or a need. Either way,
he would respond eagerly, and be pleased with the response. Somehow of
late it had become as much fun to cajole Q from his reluctant insecurities
as it was to struggle against his demanding shows of force.
And why did he love Q? It was certainly a fair question. Q had
been nothing but a pain at first, a reminder of something, but of what?
He had been so intrigued, right from the beginning, right from the start
of that presence in his life, that first ridiculous, "Thou art appointed
to return to thine own solar system," or some such rot. It really had
been too silly for words.
My God. Had he wanted Q right from the start? There was such a
sense of belonging and longing between them that Picard was vaguely
worried that he would never regain his balance, never reach that state
where he could think clearly about their relationship. What the hell was
he going to say to his crew, anyway?
Well, they must know he was happy, happier, in fact, than he'd
ever been. That would count for something.
Perhaps he should just be direct. "Thank you for your report, Mr.
Data, and, now, before you resume your posts, I'd like to tell you that Q
and I have become lovers. The sex is unimaginably good and I love him
more than I've ever loved anyone, and have you finished reconfiguring the
lateral sensors, Mr. LaForge?"
"What are you laughing at?" Q's warm voice wandered over him,
seeking out points of pleasure.
"Nothing. Everything. You and me and my life and us here,
together."
"It is a little strange," Q admitted. "I've wanted you like this
for so long, and now I've had you for twenty-seven days, and it still
seems somewhat unreal." Q chuckled deeply, but Picard heard a rueful note
in it. "I'm spending too much time in this form."
"Meaning?"
"'Days'. 'Unreal.' Human concepts. To Q everything is real
because we wish it to be so." He held up a languid hand to forestall his
lover's comments. "Yes, yes. The difference between taking and being
given, that's a difference between real and unreal."
Picard blinked his way through understanding that, then simply
rolled on his back and lay beside Q until the late afternoon had made that
tangible shift into evening.
"Back to the Enterprise?" Q asked finally, then snapped his
fingers at Picard's nod, and the captain was standing in his uniform in
his room, alone, except for the specter of his duty and the only somewhat
abated need in his body.
Beverly Crusher checked her findings three times before she even
attempted to cope with what they told her. There was absolutely no
question about it: the small lesion in Jean-Luc's brain was completely
absent from his latest medical scans. There was no sign that it had been
there other than the evidence from his last scans.
And there was more to it. Jean-Luc had always been healthy.
Keeping him that way was something of an obsession with her. But
now...now he was displaying a supremely perfect health that went beyond
good medical care. And that meant...
Beverly felt herself squaring her shoulders against it. That
meant Q. And that meant that her friend's recent happiness...his recent
love and happiness...
Oh God, Q? Jean-Luc and Q?
Never before in Beverly's life had she actually fallen from her
chair laughing, but that didn't stop her today. She simply could not get
the mental image out of her head. Dimly, she thought, "I should be
horrified, or at least jealous." But ever since Jean-Luc had told her
about that possible future marriage and divorce between them, Beverly had
been doing all she could to see her dear, close, old friend as nothing
more than a friend. She'd found, to her surprise, that the main obstacle
to overcome hadn't been desire, but resentment that after so much time and
effort between them he had found such an easy out to the whole thing.
But now Jean-Luc had Q for a lover! She hoped, in her most
selfish part of her soul, that Q was demanding and difficult, that he
pouted and complained and...and that he truly cared for Jean-Luc, and in
so doing, in being a Q and not an ordinary mortal, that he somehow gave
Jean-Luc whatever impossible thing it was that her friend had never before
been able to find with anyone else. She deeply hoped that finally,
finally with Q Jean-Luc had found someone who could love him enough and in
just the right way.
And then the mental image came at her again and she stayed
sprawled out on the floor, laughing so hard she was afraid she'd make
herself ill.
"Having a good time?" Deanna asked from the door of her small
office.
"You knew!"
Deanna looked puzzled.
"You knew it's Q and you said nothing!"
"I'm not sure..."
"Don't start that with me. Jean-Luc's scans have come out
super-perfect and there's only one person who could do that for him."
Deanna struggled a moment longer with herself, then gave in.
Beverly was bound by similar codes of confidence, and she was, after all,
right.
"It's been killing me to be the only one who knows," she breathed,
walking over to Beverly to help her to her feet.
"How long has it been going on?"
"For as long as he's been looking the way he has. Or longer, sort
of." Deanna shook her head as her friend walked to the replicator and got
them both some hot chocolate. "I don't know for certain, really. Q's
blocking the captain from me, in part. I can feel his happiness when I'm
with him, but as for other things..." She took a sip of the drink and
settled into a chair with Beverly in the other, the one not behind her
desk. "I'm grateful, actually. There are certain things an empath
doesn't feel comfortable with and considering the...players, I'm quite
relieved to be left out of things."
Beverly almost choked on her drink and had to set it down a minute
as another fit of laughing began.
"I don't think I want to know what you're laughing at," Deanna
said, then tried to be serious as Beverly calmed down and sipped again at
her cocoa. "Are you really okay with this?"
The doctor thought awhile, then sighed. "Things were never really
right between us, and with what he told me of the future...I think I'm
relieved, more than anything. I can't help it. I'm just glad that he's
happy." Suddenly Beverly shot up in her chair, the chocolate almost
spilling. "Oh God! Riker!"
"Data," Geordi said with pleasure as the door to his quarters
opened. It was hardly unusual for his friend to visit like this, and so
he didn't spend much time in the greeting, as genuine as it was, before
turning back to his latest project: another model of a famous ship, this
time of the original Enterprise, in commemoration of Worf's promotion and
the event which had finally given his friend the determination to implant
his emotion chip.
But when Data made no chit-chat about the day's business, nor
offered suggestions for the improvement of the model, the android claimed
all of Geordi's attention. And now that he turned to look, the expression
on Data's face was extremely uncertain.
"What is it, Data? Can I help you?"
"I am not sure," Data responded slowly. "I do not know what to
do, and I do not know whom to ask."
"Well, that sounds serious. Have a seat, Data."
The second officer sat down on his friend's couch, his eyes
staring uncertainly at the floor as Geordi joined him.
"It can't be that bad, Data."
"I am certain I know who the captain is currently being...intimate
with."
Geordi let out a low whistle. This was not anything like what
he'd been expecting to hear. "I see..." he started weakly.
"And this is information I would certainly keep to myself,
however...it may be that this affair is endangering the ship." Geordi
frowned at him. "And I am at a loss to understand whether my duties
require me to...do something about it."
"Something like what, Data?"
"Inform Commander Riker, question Counselor Troi about her
involvement."
"You think the captain and Troi are having an affair?"
Data looked at him blankly, then shook his head. "No, no. I only
mean that the counselor must surely be aware of the relationship, and yet
in spite of its dangerous nature has done nothing about it. I cannot help
but wonder if she has been coerced in some fashion."
"Data, just who do you think the captain is having an affair
with?"
"Q."
Geordi gulped at him. "Are you out of your mind?"
"No. Think about it, Geordi. The captain has been having an
intense relationship with someone for two weeks now. He has been seeing
this person steadily. Indeed, his unfailingly elevated mood at morning
briefings suggests they he may be seeing them every night. Yet somehow
the identity of this person has eluded everyone on this ship, even though
many have overstepped the bounds of propriety because of their intense
curiosity to discover the identity of the captain's lover."
"That's hardly enough to suspect Q of being..." The commander
trailed off. It wasn't enough, but it was pretty compelling.
"There is also the captain's own need for secrecy," Data went on.
"While the captain has never made an issue of his romantic involvements,
he has never before displayed such strict silence. I do not believe he
has said a word about the relationship to Commander Riker, nor has
Counselor Troi allowed herself even a playful suggestion regarding the
identity of the person in question. I remember the captain's association
with Nella Darren being almost never spoken of in open company, and yet
the entire command crew was eventually aware of what happened between
them."
"Yes, but we didn't know about Vash for almost a year."
"But Vash was not a member of the crew. And, besides, there are
also the two visits we know Q made to the captain some weeks ago."
"But nothing came of them."
"Precisely. Nothing came of them. That is unique in our
experience with Q. He has thrown us across the galaxy, put us in trial
for the crimes of humanity, saved the captain's life, and perhaps altered
the course of Earth's future. But he has never to my knowledge simply
gone off and left us alone."
*My God, he's right.* Geordi stared into his friend's amber eyes
while he rode through the shock. The captain and...and...and Q! How the
hell? Why in the world?
Data began to laugh, and for the first time since the wrecked
science station Geordi didn't enjoy the sound.
"I am sorry, my friend," Data said a moment later. "It is just
that I now understand the expression 'gaping like a fish.'"
END PART TWO
From ix.netcom.com!netnews.com!news-peer.sprintlink.net!news.sprintlink.net!Sprint!cpk-news-hub1.bbnplanet.com!news.bbnplanet.com!portc02.blue.aol.com!audrey01.news.aol.com!not-for-mail Wed Aug 27 11:26:18 1997
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From: varoneeka@aol.com (Varoneeka)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.q
Subject: Q is Forever (TNG P/Q NC-17 but no BDSM) 4/4
Date: 25 Aug 1997 16:38:59 GMT
Lines: 313
Message-ID: <19970825163800.MAA16493@ladder01.news.aol.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: ladder01.news.aol.com
X-Admin: news@aol.com
Organization: AOL http://www.aol.com
Hi. This is an NC-17 P/Q story, third in a series, "From Q, With Love,"
and "Live and Let Q." It's decidedly lacking in BDSM (though those are
lovely stories, no question). No one under 18 or who dislikes sex between
two men (kinda) or lots of love-talk should read any further.
Feedback is welcome at Varoneeka@aol.com
Paramount owns everything, and so shouldn't be mad at me for playing
around with such irresistible toys. I'm not doing this to make money --
though I sure wish I could!
"I'm tempted to go away more often," Q drawled a few minutes later
when they were clean and holding each other. He trailed a light finger
over Picard's chest and felt the man shudder.
"Q," Picard whispered.
"Right here, my beloved."
"Have you moved us out of time again?"
"Not yet. Why?"
With another chuckle that was half-moan, Picard turned, and Q felt
something hot and wet and hard poke his thigh. Q reached for it, but the
captain firmly pulled his hand away and moved to cover his lover with his
body, settling his erection in the hollow of Q's hip as he began slowly
and methodically moving his lips over his lover's chest.
"Mmmmm," Q murmured happily as Picard kept his touch light. Once
again he felt overwhelmed by the knowledge that this man wanted to make
him feel good, and he relaxed fully into his human form once again,
letting go of everything for the feel of warm skin and gentle caresses.
He breathed in deeply the smell of his love and exerted effort to keep his
hands at his sides. He'd managed to do this before, and now he knew that
he could increase both of their pleasure by...
Tight pressure on his shoulders from Picard's beautiful hands was
the first sign something was wrong. Then next came his partner's
shuddering gasps, as he stopped everything just to make it through the
next breaths.
"What is it, Jean-Luc?" Q asked in alarm, bringing his arms up to
hold the man's body tightly to his own. Several minutes passed before he
could answer.
"I can't...stand it, Q," he managed finally. "I can't stand being
separated from you."
Q bit his lip. This was happening far sooner than he had
expected. He told himself with a most unwelcome wave of guilt that he
really should have warned Picard about this before it started. But still,
Picard had been experiencing sex on a human level for all of his extremely
varied and intense life. This should have been enough for him for some
time to come.
But this was Jean-Luc Picard, wasn't it?
"I'm sorry, Jean-Luc," Q said finally as his lover began to dig
his fingers painfully into Q's shoulders. "Try to relax."
"Relax?" Picard's voice betrayed a little fear in his
astonishment. "How can I possibly relax?"
Moving as gently as he could, Q rolled them both over so that he
could look down into Picard's drawn face. He kissed each of the captain's
closed eyes before urging, "Look at me, Johnny."
Picard seemed ready to refuse, then forced his eyes open and
dragged his gaze to Q's eyes. Q could see the effort he was putting into
withdrawing, and how greatly the effort was short of enough.
"I told you before this isn't enough for me either," Q said
carefully. "But I thought it would last for us longer than this."
"What do you mean?"
Q felt a wave of affection wash down him at the measured depth of
the captain's voice. "I love you," he couldn't help saying, then reached
down to kiss the mouth that trembled under him. Then he forced himself to
get on with it. "I've been trying...very hard...but I haven't been able
to keep it from...influencing you." The eyes looking up at him narrowed,
but didn't frown. "I want to be closer to you, Jean-Luc. I want us to be
with each other completely."
"I take it..." Q marveled at the calm quality of Picard's voice.
"This isn't a human experience you're talking about anymore."
Q met his eyes intensely and slowly shook his head, trying to
think of human words to explain the experience he so desperately wanted
and that he knew, guiltily, Picard now wanted just as much.
But then Picard surprised him once again, and the man's hands went
to the back of Q's head to draw him down for a long, deep kiss.
"Just get on with it," Picard murmured into his lover's mouth.
"Whatever it is, just do it."
Q shook at the thought that he'd forced Picard to such
recklessness.
"Jean-Luc..." he began to protest.
"I trust you, Q," Picard said, and the entity felt himself shudder
more deeply as human tears burned his eyes.
"Jean-Luc," Q breathed heavily as he closed his eyes, steadying
himself. This had to go right. This had to be perfect. Just to be safe,
he took them out of time and space. There would be nothing here but the
two of them.
When he opened his eyes he saw Picard looking up at him, smiling
slightly, breath a little ragged in anticipation, and he wanted to tease
him, say something to make him realize how vulnerable he was. But he
didn't. He just leaned down and began the lightest of kisses against
those curved lips.
Picard shuddered with pleasure at the kiss and waited for the
pressure to increase. But instead Q began nibbling lightly on his lower
lip and the man felt something...different, something completely new and
wonderful wash through him. He tried to isolate it, analyze it, like he
might a new smell or taste, but he had no name for this sensation, no idea
whether it were telepathic or just...something else.
But even as he thought this he realized it was Q, and only Q, the
inner essence of his lover, moving within him, completely inside him,
conveyed with the touch of his lover's lips. It was overwhelming, loving,
curious, tender, insecure, arrogant, anxious, powerful, intelligent,
beautiful, sexual, delicious. It was all that he loved in Q, all that he
knew was there and all that he had even remotely sensed: no thought, no
memories, no simple emotion or communication -- it was simply existence,
being, the whole of Q's...soul.
"Show me!" Picard was gasping back. "How do I...?"
And then Q's fingers went to the man's chest, stroking his
nipples, that spot over his ribs, along his sides, all the sensitive areas
he'd eagerly memorized. Q knew it would not be much easier to show Picard
what he meant than it would have been to explain it, so he concentrated
fiercely on his task, hoping Picard would realize the difference in the
touches Q was giving him.
He had started slowly, with as much effort as it had taken to
restrain him the first time he had entered Picard's body. Now he was
using just the tips of his fingers and his lightest kisses to act as the
transmitter, letting the rest of his body rest against Jean-Luc,
comforting him with the warmth of his human form. Silently, he kept
urging his lover to understand and to reciprocate, but his touches were
not returned and Q began to worry that...
But then there were Picard's hands at last, running fingertips
lightly over Q's back, seeking out Q's own sensitive places, and slowly
the captain poured himself inside Q: deep love, white-hot lust,
contentment, need, confusion, excitement, affection, a desire for more and
more.
Q laughed, and the emotion filled Picard with happiness just this
side of unbearable.
"I had no idea you were so needy, Jean-Luc," Q whispered, and
because Q was inside Picard the captain knew how relieved the entity was
at his discovery. Q was finding that Picard had a need as great as his
own...and Picard was learing the same about him.
But they did not spend much time or effort in these detours into
details about needs, about Beverly Crusher, about the goals and directives
of the Continuum, about just how far Q was allowed to interfere in the
affairs of the Enterprise, about just how long Q was going to see to it
that Picard lived. They were too busy in the sheer sensation of their
intimacy. For the first time since they met, they were headed for
something that promised complete and total satisfaction. Picard was aware
only, and vaguely, of an unfulfilled physical need which his...spiritual
pleasure almost completely overshadowed.
But when Q trailed a light touch over his erection, Picard
realized that this intercourse was a blend of both the mental and
physical. He brushed his hands through Q's hair and let himself dwell
with supreme indulgence on how attractive Q was to him. Unexpectedly, he
found himself reveling in egotistical delight at the powers and beauty of
his lover. As he reached up to nibble on Q's ear he felt down to his very
core that he was the luckiest mortal alive, and when Q felt both the
nibble and the pride, he poured back into Picard his own delight in the
jealousy he'd had to deal with in the latest Continuum "meeting" that had
parted the lovers for those three long days (minus five minutes).
Murmuring in Picard's ear, he told of how his brothers and sisters wanted
to know how he'd done it, how he'd managed to be so completely
rejuvenated, so fresh and alive after the billions of years that had been
the Q's existence. And when he'd replied truthfully that it was the
mortal, not the Q, that had made it possible, they'd refused to believe
it.
"You are more responsible for this than you realize," Picard
whispered back. "Your patience, your desire for me that was greater than
your pride, than your need to make me bow down to you." Picard frowned in
concentration, feeling that Q's response to his words -- though full of
gratitude -- wasn't what he intended.
"But it was more than that," Picard went on as his voice grew
louder and huskier, strained with the effort of saying to his lover what
he could barely admit to himself. "Even if you hadn't done anything for
me, saved me, saved humanity, I'd still love you. You are...irresistible,
your energy, your desires, everything about you. I thought you amoral
only when I didn't understand what your life was like. Now I find myself
in awe of your ability to survive so long and with such lust for your
existence." Q was kissing a deep, hard pattern down Picard's neck now.
"I can't pretend everything about you makes me comfortable, but I don't
want to be comfortable. You're an endless challenge, an inexhaustible
source of discovery and I love you. I always will. I'll never get enough
of you. I -- Q!"
For suddenly, Q wasn't pressing his body against his lover
anymore, but had bent down to take Picard's wet, throbbing and yet almost
forgotten erection in his mouth.
Remembering a wish from their first day together, Picard closed
his eyes and gave himself completely to the sensation, concentrating his
love, his desire, his gratitude, his lust and excitement and unspeakable
joy into that place where Q was touching him. And then he came.
Q hadn't expected the orgasm quite so soon, but that surprise was
nothing to the shock he felt as Picard's hot liquid filled his mouth, for
he'd forgotten what a quick learner Picard was. Along with the man's
semen came the now concentrated essence of all that Picard was feeling,
washing through the entity, filling him with the pure taste of adoration,
leaving him, at long long last, absolutely and completely certain that he
was loved, for himself, for nothing but what he thought and felt and was.
He knew he could go forever and never treat Picard to another parlor
trick, never help him with humanity or his ship, never do anything but be
with Jean-Luc, and he would be loved.
And in one fluid motion, still reeling from bliss beyond anything
the immortal creature had ever felt, he moved up Picard's body, gently
spread and raised his beautiful legs, and thrust his physical center deep
into the man's hot, tight and gorgeous body while the core of him went
deeper into the center of the man's unique and priceless soul. He thrust
once, twice, fifty times while Picard screamed and convulsed in ecstasy,
then emptied all that he was, all that he felt, into his lover, letting
Picard know he was adored no less completely, no less purely. The captain
could resign his commission and go raise grapes for eternity, he could
refuse to participate in any more of Q's games, his body could grow ugly
and his mind weak (though Q was never ever going to allow this), and still
Q would love him without reservation.
And while they held each other as deeply as Q's powers allowed, as
deeply as was possible, altering them both forever in the way only that
sort of certainty in being adored creates, their bodies slid together with
semen and sweat and tears, until they were finally, completely, wholly
spent.
"Report, Mr. LaForge."
"The lateral sensor arrays are showing a 14% increase in both
response time and range, sir. So I'd say the experiment was a success."
"I would tend to agree." Picard smiled at him and the chief
engineer felt a full inch taller. "You and Mr. Data are to be commended
on your work."
"I was thinking of contacting Dr. Brahms about it. They might
want to think about adding this as an option to their next design."
Picard's smile was suddenly just a touch indulgent. "I'm sure that
would be a good idea."
He looked around the conference table with a sort of general
fatherliness, content and relaxed. And why shouldn't he? Q had been gone
for a few days soothing more egos at the Continuum but was due back
tonight, and there was nothing currently trying to blow up the ship or
otherwise piss all over his day. His people were busy with a number of
worthwhile projects. They were five days away from Ghuith IV, where
they'd off-load supplies for the colonists and take on two experts in warp
field theory who wanted to talk to LaForge and Data.
"Well, if there's nothing else..."
"Actually, sir," Riker said. "There is something we'd like to
discuss with you."
Picard raised his eyebrows, then watched as everyone grew
uncomfortable, staring at the first officer.
"Sir," Riker began, a bad sign. "We are all aware that your
personal life has recently...undergone a change."
Picard held himself very still, berating himself for not getting
to this sooner. How in the world was he going to explain...
"And though we've had some difficulties with it, I can't pretend
we haven't, I want you to know that I speak for the entire command staff
when I say that we will make whatever adjustments are necessary, if any,
to accommodate your new...situation."
Picard frowned.
"Of course," Riker hurried on, looking extremely uncomfortable.
"In ordinary circumstances, a captain's private life is not a matter of
ship concern, but considering...those involved, we just felt it was
important for you to know that, despite some misgivings we might have
felt...we're prepared to accept whatever special considerations...or, that
is..."
Troi broke in: "We're just interested in expressing our support,
Captain."
*They know,* Picard thought. *They know, Q.* Vividy, and though
Q was still very much with the Continuum, Picard was aware of his lover's
concern.
Riker opened his mouth, then closed it, an action mimicked in turn
by Data. The table waited for the captain to speak.
"I don't know what to say," Picard offered at last. "Except that
you should perhaps get used to seeing him around."
This drew an unexpected chuckle from the table, and Picard was
aware yet again of how extraordinary his crew truly was. This was not at
all how he had expected this conversation to go. He tried to think of
something to say, but he abruptly realized they weren't looking for
anything from him other than acknowledgment of how clever they had been to
figure it out on their own. Well, not clever, exactly, but insightful.
They knew him too well, but he had never thought they'd figure
this one out. And then, because of what Q had helped him to learn about
letting down his defenses, he joined in with a chuckle of his own. Far
away, he felt his lover relax on his behalf.
"How did you know?" he asked bluntly, confident that Deanna had
nothing to do with it. He was then treated with a synopsis of the mental
machinations of the past few weeks. He nodded, then spread his hands. "I
will entertain questions."
They seemed surprised by this.
"Will Q be interfering with the ship's operations?" Data asked.
"No."
"But he'll be keeping you perfectly healthy?" Beverly asked.
"Yes."
"Is this all right with the Continuum?" from Deanna.
"Yes." A slight smile was noticed but not remarked upon.
"Will he be participating in ship's functions?" Riker wanted to
know.
"Hmmm. Perhaps, as much as any civilian spouse might."
Thirty seconds later Riker was the first speak.
"Should I prepare quarters for him?" It was only half a joke.
"I'll ask. But I doubt it."
"Is there...anything you'd like us to do to prepare for
Q's...involvement with the ship?" Geordi asked.
The captain rubbed his bottom lip between forefinger and thumb a
moment, then offered a half-shrug. "Patience, Geordi, will doubtlessly be
required. But if there actually ever is a problem with him, you are to
bring it immediately to my attention."
They nodded, then Beverly stood and crossed the room to offer him
a hug. The rest of them settled for meaningful nods.
And then alpha shift continued.
Q, listening intently as he momentarily screened out the continued
whining of his fellow Q, recognized as much as the captain did the effort
Picard's command crew had put into that conversation, though he knew none
of them except the empath was ready to believe his intentions were
completely benevolent. But that didn't mean that he was willing to tamp
down his gratitude. Selfishly, he gave in to his desire to make Picard's
little soldiers a bit happier in their tedium, uncaring that they wouldn't
take his gifts if they knew where they came from.
So when Deanna averted a war by somehow sensing that the Ferengi
ambassador was sincere in his offer of medical assistance to G'Tlast II;
when Geordi had a brainstorm about reshaping dilithium crystals that
eventually won him the Zephram Cochrane Award; when Data found that with a
few adjustments his emotion chip worked better than ever; when Beverly
discovered a treatment for the Terrellian Plague; and when Will finally
began to realize that it was time for him to stop being such a wimp about
his feelings for Deanna, not a single one of them thought about Q.
But it was only fair. Q didn't think much about them either,
completely consumed, quite joyfully, in thinking about the happiness and
well-being of one no-longer-quite-mortal being who was, by a miracle,
quite consumed in thinking about him as well.
THE END
Picard and Q will return in "You Only Live Q."